Divergence of Destiny
by Poetic4U
Summary: The path to destiny is not always bound to a single course. Arthur journeys to a world so unlike his own. Post-Series Finale. No slash.
1. Prologue

**Divergence of Destiny**

_Author's Notes_: Since I've been reading an alarmingly large amount of Merlin FF, I thought I'd try my hand at writing one. So many possibilities. Anyway, this won't be a long story and I hope it's received well enough.

This take place post finale.

* * *

The sun has set and the light of the moon blanketed the night sky of the Kingdom of Camelot, the brightest city of Albion. At the cities' center stood Camelot's great castle where two familiar figures stood side by side on a balcony overlooking the city.

"I worry about him," the Queen confessed quietly beside her trusted Knight.

Sir Leon nodded. "It's to be expected. Tomorrow marks a day that affected us all, Your Majesty."

The Queen says nothing, allowing the silence show her understanding. Even after seven years, the Battle of Camlann and it's aftermath stayed close in their memories. Those first few weeks were hard and painful, with heavy days and sleepless nights until one morning, she felt a change in her that lifted her spirits and gave her the strength to move forward.

"We should not fret over him, Your Majesty. He is as strong as he is wise. "

The Queen smiles, softy and sadly. Her dear friend is all those things and more, and yet, in ways even she could never understand, he lost far more than any of them.

"The night has settled in and it's time I partake in it, Sir Leon. Enjoy the evening, I will see you in the morning."

Sir Leon nodded once more and watched his Queen leave. As Guinevere reached her desired location, she stopped short of entering her most cherished room as she caught sight of her oldest friend and the small precious little soul cradled in his arms. The sound of his soft whispered voice emanated through the room as he relayed another story of one of his adventures with her beloved husband while her daughter listened with rapt attention.

Her worry slowly ebbed away and was replaced with warmth and happier memories, and when he finally caught onto her presence, his eyes showed with brightness. He then looked to Elizabeth conspiratorially, "Look who is here, Princess."

The Princess of Camelot looked up, her eyes lighting the room better than any candles would.

"Mama!"

Guinevere finally crossed the threshold as Elizabeth climbed off her Godfather's lap and met her mother halfway, her small lithe arms wrapping lovingly around Guinevere when she knelt down to reach her.

"Are you behaving, my darling?"

Elizabeth's eyes shined with innocence only a child could genuinely achieve. "Yes, Mama." She turned to her favorite companion other than her mother. "Uncle Merlin was telling me a story about Papa."

Guinevere quirked an eyebrow toward the Warlock. "Was he now?"

Merlin did not look the least bit worried, and he shouldn't be. She'd heard his stories during nights as this one, and while he never lied to young Elizabeth, he had the foresight to understand that she was just a child and details were better left until she was older. Still though, Guinevere enjoyed teasing him.

"Time for bed, my love."

Elizabeth nodded, content for the evening and even more so after hearing another tale from her Godfather. As she settled her into bed, tucking the blanket up to her chin, Guinevere kissed her daughter goodnight. Merlin stood up from his chair and followed his Queen out when a small murmur from behind called their attention, "Uncle Merlin?"

Merlin turned, "Yes, Princess?"

She said but one word enthusiastically.

"Dragons!"

Guinevere smiled with barely contained mirth.

Merlin on the other hand was more than happy to oblige, his kind otherworldly blue eyes swirled momentarily to gold and a pair of miniature dragons carrying the forms of Kilgarrah and Athuisa appeared from the fiery hearth blazing in the fireplace, they leaped across the air until it settled above the princess' bed. It's presence soothing as well as magnificent in all its magical splendor like a lifelike dream in physical form, keeping her daughter company throughout the night.

It was moments like these that remind Guinevere how beautiful magic could truly be, and even after all these years, the magic Merlin possessed and the ease and the innocence in which he uses it left her in a constant state of awe.

"You spoil her," she says, more out of observation than criticism.

Merlin returned her words with a contented smile, "She is the princess."

She knew this to be true, but Guinevere also knew it was one of the small ways he can show a young mind like her daughter that magic is not something to be feared. Like all things, it should be respected, not abused.

"Thank you."

Merlin shook his head. "There is no need to thank me, Gwen."

"That is the reason why I do."

At the tavern nearby, Camelot's Knights gathered together to bring toast to their fallen brothers-in-arms and the King they loved and served. The quietest of their group and the last of the original group of Knights of the Round Table, Sir Perceval, raised his goblet and gave a short speech and shared a brief but memorable memory of his time when his friends were still with him.

Shortly after, he is joined finally by Sir Leon and the ever present Court Physician Gaius, who only ever joins them in the tavern on the eve of when Camelot finally achieved peace. They said no words to each other this night, their grief and triumph a shared experience that words were never needed to acknowledge it.

Instead, they sat together reliving their own memories, and they did this together.

In the far off distance, the Lake of Avalon rippled. The air swirled and the leaves swayed. Along the shore, a blossom of magnificent light appeared and when it was gone, on one knee a man remained and when he stood up on shaky legs, his bright blue eyes opened toward the stars.

He took a deep breath and let the fresh air console him. Carefully, he looked to his surroundings and found the familiar lake of Avalon and his quickened heart steadied to a normal rhythm.

By habit, his right hand settled on the hilt of Excalibur, a powerful sword tucked safety in its scabbard. He stayed in place for another few moments, clearing his mind for the journey ahead. For better or for worse, it was time to forge ahead, and hope his quest was not for nothing.

He secured his cloak around him and pulled his hood over his head and let his knowledge of the land lead his pathway toward home.


	2. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: I work nights so I apologize in advance that I don't update this daily. I'm going to try to complete this relatively quickly due to the plot being rather clear in my head. Hence this update. I'm thinking it won't exceed 5 chapters. I don't want to risk loosing my vision and then not updating at all. I hope this chapter brings to light a little more about where I'm taking this story.

* * *

It took him a few days but he finally made his way to Camelot. As soon as he saw the outline of his Kingdom only one word escaped his breath.

Home.

And when he finally crossed her walls with a mixture of trepidation, caution and a little bit of hope, his heart swelled to see the city thriving like never before.

Weaving through the crowd, he didn't know what to expect but it wasn't this. The people seemed... Happy... Content. Children frolicked and played, men and women both young and old strolled in unhurried pace, shops along his path were filled with steady patrons... A quick peripheral glance to his left caught a scuffle between two grown men only to be stopped by a couple of Knights and that is when his heart skipped a beat.

The emblem of Camelot's Knights still remained and for the first time since his arrival on Avalon did he have reason to hope.

That hope flared even brighter as the Knight's upheld their duties and ended the scuffle with nary a glimpse of violence.

This was not the world he expected to find himself in.

Arthur forced himself to move, not wanting to draw any sort of attention and as he continued his trek slowly around the city, taking it all in, he found himself in front of a market stand. It was simioar to any market stand he has seen throughout his travels, nothing particularly special or remarkable about it except for the items it held.

Beyond the counter, figures of familiar faces lined two shelves and his eyes were transfixed by their familiarity.

"Good day, sir," the shop owner called to him. "Anything you like?"

Without thinking, he pointed to the figures behind him. "What are those?"

"Ah, you must be new in Camelot. These are the brave Knights of the Round Table who died bravely for Camelot, carved in the finest wood. Carved it myself." The shopkeeper pulled one off the shelf and held it up to him. "This is Sir Gwaine, he perished during the Battle of Camlann."

Arthur blinked back tears that threatened to fall. Gwaine was dead. He could hardly believe it. Before he could dwell on it further, he inspected the others more closely. Elyan and Lancelot's likeness were clear. He experienced Lancelot's passing but not of Elyan's.

Oh Guinevere.

And then something else caught his eye.

The likeness was eerie. The finely crafted statue was larger than the rest but its mirror image seared into his mind. Why would a likeness of him be accompanied alongside his fallen comrades unless...

"The Greatest King ever known. Our beloved King Arthur."

"He was a good king?" Arthur whispered it mostly to himself, but the shopkeeper heard.

"Aye. You must really not be around these parts."

With his hood still obscuring his face, he had only to answer, "I've been away for many years."

"Well you've arrived at the perfect time. This week is the celebration of Camelot's rebirth and the anniversary of our dear King's passing. He died valiantly for the love of Camelot."

He withheld his reaction, disbelief battling beneath the surface.

Dead.

He died, yet beyond his wildest dreams, the world moved forward and his memory stayed within the hearts of his people. The Kingdom looked finally at rest and peace and prosperity prospered. It had been his only wish to see his people at peace and to see the fruits of that labor finally come to pass, he could do nothing but cry silent joy.

And then the fear settled in.

Arthur's original intent appealed to him less and less.

* * *

Something stirred in the air, a feeling Merlin could not quite describe. It began during the eve of Camlann's Anniversary, slow and steady, that feeling grew. He visited Elizabeth's nursery at night more times than it was necessary in the last couple of days, watching over the little princess as he did her father. He shared these feelings with Gwen, knowing that the melancholy he harbored throughout the years have become a cause for concern until he realized that he no longer needed to keep his emotions hidden from his friends.

His family.

Still, the openness he managed to achieve did nothing to quell the loss.

His regrets.

"You're still troubled, Merlin?"

Merlin turned to face his Queen and bowed his head in her presence. "I don't quite know yet. Something has happened, but I can't put into words what it is."

"I won't pretend that I understand your powers, but in my experience, it is better to heed it than face the truth of its reality if it was real."

He understood very well that she relates this experience during the years her former mistress and friend suffered through nightmares no one but he understood. And no one but he truly believed. He was not the only one in Camelot living with regrets.

"I've never asked, but if you can, what is it like, your gifts?"

Her question surprised him. Gwen has been surprisingly patient since the day he revealed to her all. Many questions were answered but few escaped due to the tragedy of losses they suffered. He does not hide anything from her or the Knights any longer so the question took him a little off guard.

"Do you hear that?"

Gwen titled her head to the side, concentrating. "People in the courtyard mostly, why?"

"I can hear the streams of rivers in the Forrest, a deer taking rest out in the fields. The leaves moving against the wind. Birds singing to each other. I can feel the earth move beneath our feet. I sense them all. It's like they call out to me as clearly as you call my name. My magic is an extension of me, kind of like walking. It takes a certain amount of exertion."

"That sounds..." She paused, thinking. "Rather wondrous, actually. And a little bit overwhelming."

Merlin smiled softly. "It was at first. It's a part of me now."

"I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I had your gifts."

"I imagine it'd be no different than having the responsibility of leading a Kingdom. We are defined by our choices, and what we do after it."

"Arthur had confessed to me one night how much you flummoxed him but I always thought you were wise beyond your years."

Merlin looked to her curiously. "What do you mean?"

"To be this clumsy floundering fool on most days, and then give such shockingly wise wisdom the next." She leaned above his shoulder and kissed his cheek. "I am so very glad you hold these gifts, the world could not risk it belonging to anyone less."

Her good opinion of him always lifted his spirits and was grateful that Gwen remained a steadfast friend and confidant.

"Now I would be remiss if I am late to another round of council meetings. We'll be hosting Queen Annis and her entourage in a fortnight so preparations need to be made. Will you be joining me?"

He shook his head regretfully. "I'm due to patrol Camelot's outer walls with a few newly Knighted Knights. Sir Leon insists that as your Court Sorcerer, the recruits are made aware the intricacies of the magical defenses we have in case they are unaware of it."

"Sounds tedious."

Merlin sighed. "It really is. I designed it so it wasn't intrusive."

Gwen left him with a laugh.

* * *

Carefully, Arthur stepped into the castle's main courtyard and hid himself in a corner behind several people not far from him. Across the courtyard was a small platoon of Knights lined up preparing for what he suspected is a drill.

"Knights! At attention!" A voice bellowed.

Arthur's heart quickened at the sight of one of his oldest serving Knights descending from the steps in patrol armor. He realized soon that Sir Leon was not leading this group when another imposing figure appeared.

His quickened heart nearly dulled to a standstill.

Merlin.

But it wasn't Merlin.

He looked like his Merlin but didn't.

Arthur's mind tried to recall the memories of his friend, details he thought were long gone due to the passing of time suddenly returned, and now he remembered. The youthful happy-go-lucky manservant with his trademark red neckerchief and the same servant clothes he was annoyingly stubborn about deviating from. His unwavering loyalty to his master and the brief but surprising bouts of wisdom he shared. All the things he was afraid to forget came back but his memories of him did nothing to circumvent what he saw in Merlin now.

He did not wear that blasted neckerchief anymore, and his clothes looked finer than anything he recalled him wearing. He stood with an aura he was unfamiliar with, and he looked like he was finally eating more than Gauis's porridge.

He was... is...

Alive.

Unexpectedly, he took a step forward, not realizing another was in his way. Hs errant move caused him to trip the man before him and slower than his reflexes should've reacted, he was pushed to the ground.

"Watch where you're going fool!" The man angrily advanced.

Shaking himself from the shock, Arthur moved quickly but not before he was held back.

"Careful there, friend. I'm sure it was all an accident."

Merlin's voice echoed through the air like a long ago sound.

To Arthur's utter astonishment, the large brute bowed sheepishly. "I'm sorry, mi'Lord, I didn't mean to case a fuss."

"It's alright. No one was hurt."

He moved his face aside when Merlin turned to face him.

"Is everything all right, sir?"

Arthur thought how can a voice be so familiar yet still come across like a stranger. Still, he remained unmoving.

"You don't need to hide, I mean you no harm."

Arthur swallowed, totally unclear as to his next move.

"Answer the Dragonlord, stranger." Sir Leon firmly commanded before him.

He jerked his head forward.

Dragonlord?

His innocent action was costly, and suddenly Sir Leon unsheathed his sword and Merlin remained absolutely frozen. The small platoon of knights reacted accordingly to Sir Leon's movement that quickly, they surrounded him. Arthur didn't know whether to be proud at how well trained Camelot's Knights were or abashed at himself for being caught so quickly.

He didn't need to think beyond the the sword raised calmly and deadly before his eyes.

"You dare come into this city wearing his face. Who are you?"

His gaze trained on Merlin, who stood silently and looked just as shocked as had been a moment ago.

The tension in the silence was thick and when Merlin finally spoke, his first words to him was not exactly what he expected, but yet mirrored his own.

"You're alive."

Straightening his posture, the movement carved a small glint of Excalibur's blade from beneath his cloak that didn't go unnoticed by Sir Leon, Arthur inhaled deeply and returned his words in a similar manner.

"So are you."


	3. Chapter 2

Author's Notes: I hope you guys are liking it. Here is Chapter 3 and it may get a bit lengthy. Hopefully, it keeps your interest. I also tend to do my edits repeatedly, so if you find any mispelled words or words missing altogether, chances are, I'll find it and edit accordingly. If I don't, my bad. Thank you.

* * *

Standing at rest with his hands cupped together behind him, Arthur overlooked the city between the drapes that hid him from view, the unsuspecting townspeople unaware that their dead King awaited behind it. His mind was a jumble of thoughts as he waited for his upcoming interrogation. He turned to survey the room once more, noticing that the guest chamber that housed friends, allies and dignitaries have changed very little from his own memories.

The castle itself was clean of dust, rubble and soot. A stark contrast to what he had last seen during the final moments before he lost all.

When he had been escorted to this room, a cautious Sir Leon and and the Knights were ordered to secrecy by Merlin himself about his unprecedented presence and Arthur's mind could not help but fill with questions. Questions about Guinevere and the man in question, but little about Merlin reminded him about the loyal affable manservant he once knew.

And the attempts to regulate his breath and to calm the erratic beat of his heart failed.

The sound of footsteps beyond his door jerked his attention. He saw a shimmer of magic encompass its frame and slowly, without even a creak the door opened soundlessly.

Magic, he realized belatedly that magic must exist openly in this Kingdom now.

Merlin stood tall when he stepped through, and the proximity allowed Arthur a closer inspection without the threat of violence or wondering eyes occupying his attention. His earlier assessment proved correct by the way he stood, straight and surprisingly imposing dressed in clothes fit for a nobleman. Had Merlin always been that tall or was it due to his years bowing to the service of others that cloaked the nobility that he seemed to carry underneath?

"I hope you've been treated well, sire?"

Arthur's eyes widened a fraction by his words but he recovered quickly and gestured to the room, his arms settling last to the table nearby filled with an assortment of delicacies.

Merlin's eyes suddenly narrowed. "You've barely eaten."

"I find that such a variety does not agree with my stomach, but I give thanks for it." Years of scavenging for food wherever he may find it has changed his diet.

"Are you ill? I'll have the kitchen make some broth or stew and-"

Arthur could not deny the worry in Merlin's tone and quickly interrupted. "It's fine, Merlin. I'll eat what I have here slowly." Feeling the need to dive head long, he began, "You must have a lot of questions."

Merlin nodded. "One or two..."

"And I'm prepared to answer. You'll either think me mad or an imposter, and the results to either is not appealing."

"You're Arthur Pendragon?"

"Yes."

"I believe you."

"That's it? You need no other proof than my word?"

"Your word has always been enough."

Arthur blinked. "You confound me in this world nearly as much as you did in my own."

His words provided the desired affect and now it is Merlin who looked to him curiously.

Arthur took one deep breath and began his story.

* * *

Some time later...

"After Morgana took the castle, whoever was left, myself included fled into the forrests. For months we ran and hid, staying far from villages or cities so they don't incur Morgana's wrath. In the end it didn't matter. Camelot was not enough for her, and innocents died anyway."

"How did you survive?"

"Before the first year was through, the lands was hit with a cold dark storm that seemingly blanketed all the kingdoms. Food was scarce and dry wood was becoming harder to find. We... I... Felt defeated. It wasn't long until I caught a fever. It was already making its way through our camp, Gaius had been one of the first that didn't survive."

Merlin's features remained for the most part neutral if not for the glistening of his eyes that kept from freeing his tears.

"I'm sorry, Arthur."

Arthur nodded, tempted to offer him more condolences but opted in the end to carry on. "Druids found us, brought us to their haven. Nursed us back to health. Provided food. Shelter. People my father persecuted, hunted down... Murdered. They, who had cause to hate me more than even Morgana herself, humbled themselves to help their enemies with no thought to their own welfare."

Arthur closed his eyes and allowed the memories to come to him.

"And then one day passed, and another, then another. Days turned to weeks... Months... They never left us behind. It was like suddenly I was awake, and the world around me looked so different. I was so wrong, Merlin. When I think of Morgana, I think of my father. How so very alike they are. And I tell myself, this is the legacy I left behind. A legacy I myself followed even when my heart doubted what my head would not."

"You cannot blame yourself for the actions of others."

"He was my father! And Morgana... The signs were there but I was too blind to see it. I should have been there for her."

"So should I," admitted Merlin with downcast eyes.

"I've told this to no one, but I hold much anger towards you." Arthur saw Merlin flinch but valiantly kept his eyes fixed on his. "No matter how much the world changed, you were a constant in my life. And then you had to go get yourself killed protecting me. And when I learned you had magic, I was... Hurt."

"I would never betray you, Arthur."

"Oh I know," he agreed unquestioningly. "Even in your dying breath, you did not use magic to save yourself. You used it to save me, and I hated you for that further."

"Sire-"

"Don't." He stopped him. "I had a right to know."

"That you were harboring a warlock in your court."

"It wouldn't have been easy, and I won't insult either of us by believing otherwise. Ultimately, we'll never know, because in my world, you're dead and nothing will change that."

"No." Merlin shook his head sadly. "For all my gifts, even I can't turn back the sands of time, or bring to life what is long gone. So it brings us back to why you're really here. Why are you here, Arthur?"

"I was part of a hunting party when I ran across a sorcerer who led me to the Crystal Caves." The sight of Merlin's jaw almost falling was almost enough to make him laugh.

"That must have been surprising."

"Yes, more so when saw what the crystals showed. They were of you, Merlin."

"Me?"

"The sorcerer said that it often shows visions of the future, but never of the past. But then I thought, you were dead. I and along with my Knights held your funeral ourselves. I placed the torch that enflamed your body. So why were the crystals showing me a vision of you?" He tells Merlin rhetorically.

And the Warlock finally understood.

"As crazy as it sounded, even to my Knights, we all set out to scour the realms to find any known or rumored magical scrolls, books or relics to aid us. Each of us was accompanied by another who possessed knowledge and ability of the Old Religion to aid us in understanding what we're looking for. Iseldir and I slipped into Camelot ourselves using underground tunnels unknown to Morgana to breach the Castle walls. To reach the hidden vaults my father used to imprison magical books and artifacts he acquired during his reign."

"And your success led you to here."

Arthur sighed, his weariness showing. "Not so simple, really. There was so much that even the Druids were hard pressed to understand and translate. It took us years. It was imperative that Morgana did not know what was happening beneath her very feet. Finally, our diligence paid off but not until Morgana discovered our location. She led the raid herself, no doubt the thought of witnessing my death a forefront in her desire for absolute power. I was separated from my men when Iseldir and his brethren led me to the Lake of Avalon, where they chanted their magical words and sent me here."

Merlin's voice sounded grave. "Do you know if they live?"

Arthur shook his head regretfully. "I do not."

"Then I know what you and I must do."

"No."

Merlin turned to face him looking absolutely perplexed. "What do you mean no?"

"I don't deny that I came here looking for your help, but how can I ask that of you after all I've seen. All you've done in the name of my memory. How can I in good conscience take you from your home only to give you more death and suffering in a world strife with darkness. Seeing Camelot again in its splendor is more than I ever hoped to see. They live in peace."

"Where there is land, there is power, and with it the ambitious will always fight over it. Camelot is not an exception to the rule. Whether it be tomorrow, or ten years, or a hundred, there will always be a battlefield, Arthur."

Arthur assessed him, debated in his head whether to share his thoughts or keep them to himself. In the end, he was compelled to, "You remind me of him. The Merlin I knew. He can be quite wise."

"It's not so disconcerting. I was always smarter than you."

Arthur scoffed at his conclusion. "That is not true."

Naturally, like no time has passed and worlds didn't set them apart, Merlin ignored him. "Whether you think I should join you or not is a moot point, but I've decided. If I can help, I want to."

"You're not my manservant."

"I'm not anymore, no."

"And I'm not your King."

"That's debatable."

"Merlin."

"Don't be a self righteous prat, Arthur." His words... their sudden argument, so reminiscent of their past interactions, it left Arthur speechless and more than a little nalstalgic. All that was missing now was a thrown goblet and a threat to the stocks. "Camelot is well guarded. My enchantments, the Knights and the Sorcerer's I've trained will protect Camelot and its Royal family in my absence."

Arthur's attention fixated at Merlin's final words.

"Royal family?"

* * *

The quick clambering of footsteps could be heard from miles. Within the illustrious walls of Camelot's Castle, the Queen Guinevere reached for his hands and clung to it with hard crushing emotion with as much grace as a Queen could muster.

"Sir Leon told me," she spoke softly, her eyes sought the truth in his. "Is it true? Is he really here?"

"Yes, Gwen. He is."

She pulled him into a tight embrace. "It is not a dream?"

"No."

"Sorcery?"

He pulled away and faced her with a smile. "Definitely not in the way you think."

"May I see him? Leon did not give too much details."

"You don't need my permission, Your Majesty."

"Don't bring rank into this, Merlin, please."

Merlin nodded and took her hand to rest on his forearm as he led her to the guest chamber that housed the other King. As they neared, "Remember, Gwen. He's not the same Arthur you knew. He comes from a world where events forced him on a different path."

"I understand."

* * *

It was like time stood still as Merlin watched his Queen's reunion with their long ago dead King. But he was not dead, at least, not this Arthur. In another time, another place, Arthur lived.

The irony that in a world Arthur survived, he had to be dead was almost poetic.

A cruel poetic twist of fate.

He knew almost immediately in the Courtyard that he was real. Not the same, but real nonetheless. And the knowledge that brought forth was more than he ever imagined. He accepted his story, his King's eyes betrayed no deceit. Even the magic within him brokered no question.

As as he watched them cling to one another in breathless wonder and tears, Merlin bowed his head and gave them their reunion, for however brief it may last, the privacy it deserved.

* * *

"I feel for the first time in a long time at peace with you in my arms." He kept his hold on her, unable to free themselves from their embrace.

"I missed you so much, Arthur," Guinevere quietly sobbed.

"And I, you." He pulled away briefly, his hands cupping her face and spoke with a smile that lit his eyes. "The crown suits you, Your Majesty."

Guinevere laughed.

"I should have made you Queen years ago."

The air turned thick.

"What happened to me in your world, Arthur?"

He failed to control his emotions but felt safe in her arms to share his fears.

"She was lost amidst the siege... I..." He croaked, belaying his tears. "I don't know if she survived. Morgana has taunted me with your death but no one, both enemy and friend, could account for it."

"So there is hope."

"However small, I cling to it."

"I suspect to know why you're here."

"I don't know if I'm strong enough to ask him of that. And he is your Advisor, he protects Camelot as he protects you. I cannot ask him to leave."

"You wouldn't have to. Merlin serves no man or sovereignty other than to those he loves and trust. He would not make this choice mindlessly. You are his King, Arthur. No matter what land you come from, his loyalty and devotion always rested with you." He felt her fingers brush softly against his cheek. "And I trust that you will protect him as I trust that he will protect you."

A clattering of footsteps invaded their intimacy and a small colorful ball of energy appeared. In his arms Guinevere released herself and leaned down when the child unceremoniously launched herself into her arms.

"Mama! You promised I can ride my pony today!"

She turned her face to wipe clear her tears. "I'm sorry, my darling, I completely forgot."

"My apologies Gwen," Merlin stepped into the room looking very apologetic. "She's as fast as the wind, I think she made her way to the kitchen and found those sugar cookies again."

"Mama, who is he?"

When they all looked to him, he paid them no attention. His sight remained staring at the most beautiful thing his eyes ever beheld. With a head of golden flowing hair and rosie cheeks and bluish eyes that remind him of his own, he was, for lack of a better word, spellbound.

Guinevere beside him knelt down at the child's eye level and spoke in a soft soothing voice, "Elizabeth, I'd like you to meet someone very dear to us. He..." She looked between he and Merlin for help, unsure how to address his sudden presence.

Taking the initiative, Arthur squatted down, committing everything his mind could of this wonderful child before him.

"Hi there, Princess. My name is Arthur... A friend of your father's."

Elizabeth's eyes widened in open wonder, which was not so different from his own.

"My father's name was Arthur as well."

"Yes," Arthur answered, holding his tears. Wanting so very much to hold her, he looked to Guinevere for permission.

Showing her own emotions to him, she nodded.

"Can I get a hug, Princess?"

Elizabeth released her mother's hand and like any innocent child who possessed pureness of heart and soul, she reached for him.

Slowly. Reverently, he took his child into his arms for the first time in either of their lives and the feelings caused his heart to swell. He was gentle yet firm in his embrace of her and before he could even make it stop, and at this point, Arthur refused to hide his happiness, his tears fell.

* * *

"Your people. The Knights. And Merlin most of all, have loved this precious child since the moment her first cries echoed through these halls."

Arthur continued to caress the soft golden locks of a child he had not known was possible to have in any reality, and his tears continued to flow. He had spent the remainder of the afternoon in the presence of his lost family, sharing his own stories to Elizabeth as he played with her.

As night finally came, he was hard pressed to let her go. "I owe Merlin much." He felt Guinevere's hand squeeze his shoulder.

"You owe no such thing. You were not just a duty to him, Arthur. You were the closest thing to a brother he had. And you were his friend."

"It's kind of you to say, and that may be true, but I was blinded by my father's teachings and my own doubts about my leadership. I am grateful to him as I am to you for fulfilling my dreams. I am only sorry that it took my death, and the death of my sister to do so."

"We've all suffered. It's why I think we carry so much compassion."

Arthur nodded absentmindedly, his gaze unable to waver from the small angel sleeping beneath his fingertips.

"He's very distant with me."

"For a long time, you were his purpose, his reason for being. He doesn't strive for power, but for acceptance. Losing you affected him more than anyone of us could have foreseen. And there are times we worry for him. Having Elizabeth in our lives helped in dulling that pain."

Arthur smiled weakly as he stared up to, for all intents and purposes, his loving wife.

"And now he's a lord."

Guinevere chuckled softly. "A Dragonlord. And Try not to address him by title too often, it took him far longer than I to grow accustomed to it."

"But he's your advisor and Court Sorcerer?"

"Yes, but those were easy enough. He acted the part long before then, but the thought of bestowing him a dukedom or some such was ghastly on his nerves."

Arthur laughed, a short but welcomed one. Merlin was never one to take titles of nobility seriously, so he could easily imagine the doddering manservant looking utterly dejected at the thought of become a legitimate peer of the realm.

"I still think he can be an idiot."

* * *

Meanwhile, as stories unfolded above stairs, a group of anxious individuals waited down below.

"Is it real?"

"It looks real enough."

"It could be enchanted to look like it."

"Or just a very good replica."

"Impossible. No one but the King held this sword. And none, not even his Knights, including myself, stood still close enough to commit its workmanship to memory."

The Knight's of the Round table dubiously looked at Sir Percival. Percival glanced to Gauis, the Court Physician and the oldest of them all for help, and loyally, he followed.

"It's true. The only person who can truly vouch for its authenticity is Merlin."

Another Knight, Sir Galahad, spoke to state the obvious. "King Arthur is real and standing not far from this very spot, and that, my friends, is clearly Excalibur. How much more proof do we need?"

"We don't know he's King Arthur," replied Percival. "And you have never met him. No one more than I wish he was real."

"Merlin has not denied it."

Everyone suddenly turned their direction to Dagonet, the fearsome warrior knighted a year after Camlann rarely spoke, and when he did, people tend to take note.

A moment passed before Galahad beamed. "Problem solved."

Sir Bors, the oldest Knighted of the group but with a long distinguished career in battle, finally added his two-cents. "While we wait, we drink."

Galahad rolled his eyes. "I don't think drinking would enlighten us any further."

Bors thought otherwise and raised his hidden flask from his coat pocket. "But it helps pass the time."

Suddenly, the double doors boomed open with Sir Leon leading the pack followed by their friend and magical comrade, Merlin.

All the Knights stood at attention, including Gauis who met his former wards eyes with inquiry.

Merlin nodded, his knowing intense but kind gaze settled on each of them.

There was silence, and with baited breath, every Knight's heart quickened when their Queen appeared beside an equally imposing figure straight out of myths and legends and announced, "Knights. Gaius. Allow me to present Arthur Pendragon. You may know him as the King of Camelot."

Continued silence reigned as everyone stared in awe, but it lasted only a moment when Galahad burst with an enthusiastic, "I knew it!"


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note**: Sorry for the delay. There should be one last chapter left in this installment. This saga wasn't meant to be very long.

Edited August 21, 2013: Yikes, so many typos. My apologies. The auto-correct (or in my case incorrect) on my IPad is very inconvenient. I hope I found most of them.

* * *

In the Council room, Arthur was left feeling uncomfortably scrutinized by the Knights of Camelot, as well as his former manservant, a position he never thought he would find himself in. But here they were, in surroundings both familiar and not. Neither he nor the Knights present seem certain where to start, but he had at least hoped Merlin's talkative manner existed in this world.

"You must have questions," Arthur says without further delay.

"I'm sure they're thinking about what to say," adds Merlin's simple reply and Arthur had the instinctive need to clobber him over the head. Instead, he settled for raising his eyebrow.

"And what have you surmised?"

It was Sir Galahad that spoke, "The Druids refer to you as the Once and Future King, but Albion is not in danger, so why isn't... um... the other Merlin with you?"

"Pardon Sir Galahad, sire. He's been weaned on your legend since childhood. And he can be quite forthright when excited," Sir Leon explained.

"I do not!"

"Quit while your ahead, boy," chides Sir Bors.

Arthur fell in momentary speechlessness. He had expected suspicion, perhaps even the possibility that dark magic was at play, but he had not considered these Knights to be so... accommodating to such strange circumstances. This was going to take a little getting used to. "Where I come from is not so different from here, at least, I suspect there was a time where our lives ran a similar path."

Gauis leaned forward from his seat with eyes that sparkled interest. "An alternate world?"

Arthur nodded, falling back into familiar conversation, at least for himself. Earlier, he felt supremely unbalanced by the role reversal when speaking with Merlin, and that had been without an audience. Then and now coupled with seeing friends he thought he had lost and strangers that stared in reverence added to the overwhelming sensation he felt. "My Merl- what I mean is the Merlin of my world died during Morgana's siege against Camelot. Camlann never took place in my world, so the thought of my own death in this one is a little strange."

Gauis looked astounded by his words. "I've never considered that alternate worlds existed."

"To be perfectly honest, neither did I."

"Merlin dead. That's... I can't imagine."

The mere thought caught Sir Galahad off guard that it overrode his most recent jubilation at meeting King Arthur and sobered quickly by the serious of the situation.

"Do you intend of going to this… alternate world with the King, Merlin?" Percival asked.

Merlin made no immediate answer.

"So you've decided?" Another voice added.

Merlin finally replies.

"Yes."

Not to be outdone, the Queen who had remained quiet until now, adds, "And I've given him my blessing."

"When do we leave?"

A heavy silence fills the air and when Merlin did not elaborate, the Knight's erupted with varying degrees of concerns and disagreements.

_"You can't be serious?"_

_"It's utterly mad!"_

_"Your Majesty, surely you won't allow them to go by themselves."_

Merlin expected they would be against this choice, but with a single raised hand combined with eyes too mature for his age, everyone went silent.

Albeit grudgingly.

"Your concerns are both justified and noted, but the spell that brought King Arthur into this world has only enough power to carry two. It's why he came here alone."

"I'm not a King."

Everyone turned to Arthur with a look of surprise.

"What?" Spoke many.

Arthur composed himself valiantly and avoided shifting uncomfortably in the face of such continued scrutiny. He calmed quickly when Guinevere reached out and intertwined her hand with his own.

"I'm still technically the Crown Prince of Camelot, but Morgana and her forces invaded before my official coronation."

"And your father?" Gaius asked gently.

Arthur shook his head. "Executed a few weeks after he was forced to acknowledge that Morgana was his daughter."

A heavy silence engulfed the room.

When the moment passed, one Knight bravely broke the stillness.

"Looking back, many of us may not have liked his choices, and as I, a Knight in his army, are not without faults of our own. Nevertheless, he was your father and once my King, and for that, we are sorry."

Arthur looked to Sir Leon with a mix of astonishment and gratitude. He'd learned the hard way the truth of his late father's actions. Knowledge that nearly crippled his belief in himself and everything he was taught to believe. Time has served to ease his sorrows and shame for his father's genocidal atrocities as well as his part in it when he came of age. It was a hard lesson learned that his people were still paying for even after his sister usurped his birthright. He hoped that with Merlin by his side once again, as he always should have been, that they can in some way prevent further loss.

"I was young when you reigned here, Sire." Sir Galahad managed to find his voice again. "I had just come of age during the Battle of Camlann and my parents feared for my welfare if I were to join with so little experience. I would have liked to have served you as I have the Queen since I've been Knighted."

"Aye," others agreed.

Touched by their words and with nothing else to add, the only thing Arthur could adequately give was, "Thank you."

Beside him, Merlin looked around Camelot's Council of Knights and finally noted the empty seats. "Where's Tristan and the other Knights?"

"Bruin and Dunure are out on night patrol and Tristan is still with his protege within the Darkling Woods training. They're expected to return by first light tomorrow," answers Sir Leon.

"And the rest?"

"Drunk."

Merlin's head spun towards Leon incredulously.

Sir Leon looked appropriately sheepish. "Sorry, Merlin. You caught us in the middle of a celebration. Half our army are on holiday."

Merlin relaxed, smiled and then nodded, not feeling entirely put out. Arthur's arrival did occur during peaceful celebratory times. The Knights and soldiers worked hard all year long to keep the peace.

"Sire, are you alright?"

Arthur turned to Sir Percival's query, clearing his gaze. "My apologies, um... The Round Table has changed."

Merlin glanced towards the ringed Round Table, the heavily weighed circular table was exquisitely forged completely in iron, it's circumference stretching wider than its predecessor. An idea that signified permanence. In its center lies an ornate round fire pit that lightened the council room in its strong fiery glow. Before Merlin could make a reply, Sir Leon beat him to it.

"The Round Table you remember hangs in the throne room as a remembrance to you and our fallen comrades, sire. This room was renovated to act as the meeting place for the Queen and Camelot's High Knights and trusted Council members."

"Right." Arthur looked down and traced the engraved image of Excalibur's hilt with his hand while his actual sword rested beside it. He realized almost immediately that this seat belonged to him, and that no other, not even a future king, would sit on it. He felt undeniably humbled by the visage and what it represented.

"If I may," Sir Leon began, his voice slightly trembling, "How did Merlin die?"

Arthur looked up and his memories surged with the pain of it. Merlin of this world had been kind enough not to ask the details that unbeknownst to Arthur at the time, forked the path of Camelot's future as well as his own into a world he could barely recognize. He changed after that night, and he often wondered what could have happened if things were different. Finding himself in this world answered those unspoken questions and his heavy heart was both burdened and relieved with knowledge.

His friend's death plagued him even to this day, and the eyes of his people, both familiar and stranger, waited for his answer. Burying the tragic event had been his only means of staying strong, and so without further ado, only one word sufficed.

"Bravely."

The Knights said nothing but their emotions were keenly displayed on their faces, and more prominently in their eyes as they gazed between he and Merlin. Merlin himself said nothing, his very being showing as if his answer were of no consequence. When Arthur changed a look to his eyes, Arthur was beset with the most horrifying and awe-inspiring truth.

No matter which world they belonged to, Merlin is prepared to die for him.

Curbing the urge to punch him for being so selfless and loyal, Arthur steeled himself for what was to come and the remainder of the private meeting dealt with the minute details of Arthur and Merlin's journey. Many weighed in, giving their knowledge and experience willingly. Arthur was hard pressed not to notice how the whole of them would have liked to join them.

A part of him wished they could join him too.

When all was said done, Sir Leon stood from his seat and raised his goblet.

"Considering that the most noblest and brightest of us all is leaving us soon, by my leave, is there anything you need, Merlin?"

A lopsided grin appeared on his face. "Now that you've mentioned it..."

Arthur could not even fathom what it was that has Merlin looking so happy.

* * *

"I hardly even recognize myself," Arthur could not help but say aloud as he looked at himself in the mirror. "What is this made of? It's shockingly light."

"Like your sword, the metal is forged from Dragon's breath which is also interlaced with their scales. Our blacksmith worked all day on it."

"You commissioned this even when I was uncertain about our journey?"

"Even if you managed to cross back without me, I'd rather you were protected. From all that you've described, your life is anything but easy."

"I cannot believe the Great Dragon agreed to it."

It had actually been _Aithusa_ who forged the metal, but Merlin hadn't considered it all too important to distinguish. Kilgharrah was getting on with age and has been enjoying his retirement.

"He survived then."

"He's one of the rare few Morgana truly fears. He doesn't always come to our aid, and I suspect that his Dragonlord forbids him. I don't blame the man, my father took everything from Lord Balinor. I know he tries though, but the past is not so easily forgotten, or forgiven."

A strange faraway look appeared on Merlin's features but Arthur kept himself from prying. He had learned over the years when not to push.

"You know him well then?"

"I cannot honestly claim that anyone truly knows him, perhaps having another Dragonlord will help our alliance." Shaking his thoughts of the stoic Dragonlord from his mind, Arthur assessed the magnificent armor he wore once more. "I feel as if I shouldn't go to battle with this on in case it gets marred."

Merlin looked at him with empathy. "I have my own as well. Leon didn't want me joining them into battle without means of physical protection after Gwen elevated me to Court Sorcerer, and so when he learned that the Druids of history were once amazing armorers, he immediately sought their commission."

Arthur looked at him funny. "From what I've been told, you're a powerful sorcerer, surely, wearing armor would be nothing but cumbersome for you." And he could not help the memory of Merlin's many failed attempts in sparring with him in full armor from crossing his mind.

Merlin shook his head, his own thoughts finding it strange to have a discussion about magic so casually with his King. "I don't always resort to magic. But even with it, I'm equally vulnerable to mistakes as any other Knight. Besides, the metal is blessed and the protective enchantments provide a good level of protection from anyone who tries direct magical assaults on you. I wield my magic very well, but even I don't have eyes at the back of my head."

Arthur stared at him in disbelief. "That is... Actually very useful." When the rest of Merlin's words began to sink in, "Battles?"

"In a King-less Kingdom with a young Princess as its only heir, we have our share of disagreements with foreigners. They tend to think twice when they realize that the Queen and Camelot will not take threats lightly, and along with our neighboring Allies, the battles are short lived. You should know that Elizabeth has become beloved to all. She's acknowledged more as the Princess of Albion more than the Princess of Camelot."

In truth, it won't be long before the land officially declares itself as Albion and Camelot would sit as the country's Capital Kingdom with Guinevere as it's first High Queen. The realm's around it would retain their standing but this time, they fell under a united banner. Honor. Strength. Peace. Unity.

Arthur frowned as he crossed his arms, looking positively protective of a child that he's grown to cherish in such a short time that he was unaware of the implications Merlin's words described.

"I'm sure the noble houses of all the realms are looking forward to the prospect of permanent alliance" scoffed Arthur.

Merlin failed miserably to withhold a chuckle. "As I told the Knights repeatedly, she is only six."

Arthur didn't look the least bit convinced. "Try telling that to the Council of Lords and the male heirs they're grooming."

"Now you're just overreacting."

"I am not."

They were interrupted suddenly by the presence of the Queen.

"Are you two arguing?"

"Guinevere, tell Merlin that Elizabeth is not to have suitors at least until she's thirty."

With an appropriately raised eyebrow, "She's only six."

"See, I told you," Merlin said with a shameless smug.

"Defiant, the lot of you," complained Arthur.

Guinevere smiled and slid her arm into Arthur's. "You look dashing in this armor." Arthur blushed at the compliment before she adds, "The courtyard has been cleared, the Knights are awaiting your arrival."

"Why?" questions Arthur curiously.

"Your favorite past time, Sire," replied Merlin. "Are you ready for battle?"

* * *

Swinging downward with his sword, Merlin sidestepped and parried the attack. Before him, Arthur stood stunned.

"I see someone finally manage to teach you the sword."

"Percival and Leon were adamant. And the Queen's support of it made it impossible to refuse the lessons."

"I am glad of it. Morgana's forces are strong and it would be a relief not to worry about your welfare in case your magic fails you."

Merlin nodded, catching his breath. "Still though, I think Sir Leon would prefer I took it more seriously. I use it mostly for self defense. Apparently, he wishes I put as much devotion to a sword as I do a bow."

"Never figured you for a bowman."

"Neither did I, until I learned to focus spells on the arrow."

Arthur's eyes widened and a look crossed his face Merlin had never seen before when it related to magic.

Excitement.

"Show me."

What else could Merlin do but oblige.

* * *

The darkness was slowly fading to bring forth the light in the early morning hours of Camelot's pending dawn as Arthur leaned against the window pane staring outward. Guinevere slept soundly in bed. It wasn't long when he felt her presence rise behind him.

"As much as my heart wishes I could stay, I fear I've lingered here long enough."

Guinevere embraced him from behind, wrapping her arms around him tightly as they looked over the Kingdom and the sun that was breaching the sky. He held one of her hands against his heart. Keeping it close.

"It's hard to believe that you are really here, my love. I feel your heart beating and I find it gives me great comfort."

"I am sorry for your loss," he says with heartfelt sympathy.

"I know. Time had helped heal it, and you've given me a beautiful daughter to remember you by."

"Life can be terribly unfair. To think of what could've been."

"We cannot keep looking back to the past."

He turned, his hand slowly raising it til it cupped her cheek, his thumb slowly wiping the first tear that fell from her eyes.

"You're a magnificent Queen, your husband would have been proud." He kisses her with all the passion he was capable of. "Thank you," he whispers.

* * *

The Knights of the Round table sat on their steeds in single file along Avalon's shoreline. After meeting and thanking every one of them personally, Arthur made sure to spend his final moments with Guinevere and the daughter he hoped to one day see again. If not in his lifetime, but maybe the next.

"Are you my father?"

Her voice had been so breathtakingly small that he almost lost all semblance of nobility and his reaction, taking her into his arms with whispered words of love that only a parent could give their child.

"You take care of your mother for me, okay?"

Princess Elizabeth nodded, her quiet sob and body quivered into his arms. "Will I see you again?"

This was too much, Arthur thought unfairly. To find each other only to lose each other again.

"I need you to be brave, my Princess. I'll always be with you." He pulled away slightly, pointing to her heart. "Because I'm in there, and because your apart of me."

She nodded, not truly understanding but believing his words nonetheless.

"One day, when your older, you'll understand. But it's okay to be sad right now. I love you, Elizabeth. And I am so happy to have met you." He pulled her in one more time, savoring and memorizing this moment forever.

Everyone around them, even those who were near them tried valiantly to give them privacy, but the vision of the Once King with their future Queen kept their wondrous eyes from straying.

* * *

"Knights! Salute!" Orders Sir Leon.

In quick response, the Knights honored their King and Warlock with raised swords. The vision of them was nothing less than magnificent.

"Long live the King!"

"LONG LIVE THE KING"

Near the water, Arthur's eyes watered but remained unshed as he nodded gratefully to Sir Leon. Willing his strength together, he looked to Merlin.

"It's not too late, you know. I wouldn't think any less of you if you were to turn back now."

"I have made my choice, and I stand by it."

"It's not like here. It's dark and filled with fear. Lands and cities torn apart. Family and friends lost. People do not hope for the future, they hope for tomorrow."

"I understand."

"Do you, Merlin? Because sometimes even I don't understand how it's come to this. I am not a King. I am not even a Prince anymore. I am not _that_ Arthur."

"And I wouldn't presume you would think of me as _that_ Merlin. It's true that we could fail, and that all of this was for naught. But I also see that no one here would blame you if you stayed and let the past six years become nothing but a bad dream. But that is not you, and that's what makes you the King that you were, the man that you are. It is why the Queen had the strength to let you go a second time. And it's why I serve you. The people here does not grieve your death, Arthur, they celebrate your life and all you gave for them. That is the King you will be when this is through."

"How can you see such light against all the odds against us?

"Even the Arthur I knew had little faith in himself and his leadership. All those battles and betrayals." Merlin shook those memories aside, not wanting to dwell on the dark moments. "But there comes a moment where you see your path and make your choice."

Merlin's words resonated and all Arthur could do was stare.

"This is how it should have been had we both lived," Arthur came to realize with acute clarity. "King and Warlock, side by side. Perhaps we could change our destinies this time around."

For the first time since dawn broke, Merlin smiled.

"You ready?" asks Arthur once more.

"As ready as you and I can be."

Arthur nods and pulled his legendary sword from its sheathe, the blade glowing as two different colored crystals he removed from his pouch began to emit a similar glow. In a flash of blind light, the Knights, Gauis, Queen and Princess shielded their eyes and when the light disappeared and all became normal, the place where King Arthur and the their Sorcerer were, no longer stood.

* * *

Please review.


	5. Epilogue

As soon as the light disappeared, and Arthur saw that they were alone on Avalon, the familiar eery silence and the still waters of the lake carried an instinctual familiarity and he knew he had returned to his world. But before he could take one step forward, the sound of Merlin's scream had him spinning around, his sword held at the ready.

On the ground, Merlin withered in agony, his hands braced against his head.

"Merlin!"

He reached his side almost immediately, falling to the earth as he tried to figure out why Merlin was in pain.

"Where does it hurt?! Are you injured?!" He began to panic. Not even a single moment home and already Merlin was possessed by something he didn't understand. Was it the journey that brought this on? He did not believe it but what other reason could it be.

"Merlin!" He repeats, but the Warlock seemed unaware of his worried cries.

And when Merlin fell into unconsciousness and stilled, the hope that flared within him from the other world began to dim.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I'm wrapping this installment up. The follow-up is called Chaos of Destiny. I had meant to post this after Chapter 3.

Yes, it's a bit cruel, but DoD was kind of meant as a prologue to this journey. Everything from Merlin's world leading up to Arthur's death is canon, but Alt-Arthur's I can play around with. We'll see how it goes.


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